He's All Mine
by RiotPug
Summary: Someone dared to speak to his senpai. He could see it, they would become friends, their relationship evolving into more, and senpai would fall in love with her, not him. He needed to do something about it... (Septiplier, Senpai!Jack, Yandere!Markiplier)
1. Chapter 1

He twirled a knife in his hand, his finger trailing up the blade of the weapon until it reached the tip. He pressed his finger down, numb pain shooting through the digit as he removed the knife. A trickle of blood ran down, pooling into his palm. He dropped his empty hand and looked at the squirming person sitting in a chair, hands and feet tied and mouth taped shut. He smiled creepily and walked up to the person, dragging the knife across their neck.

"So, I saw you talking to senpai." He said deeply, using the bleeding hand to swipe some of his unruly, short black hair out of his face. He leant closer to his victim, reddish-brown eyes glaring imperiously behind half framed glasses that glinted under the dim spotlight he had set up. It was just for effects, but it certainly scared the senpai-stealing whore. Ah... Sometimes he pitied these poor souls who even dared to touch his sweet, sweet Jack. His prey stared up at him, frightened. Panic flashed in her eyes as he reached over and brushed the blade of the knife along her cheek, trailing it down the pathway her tears made.

He ripped the tape from her mouth, a loud scream erupting from her mouth. She began hollering loudly, calling for help and wailing for someone to call the police. He scoffed. He flashed his hand into her mouth, gripping his fingers onto her slippery tongue, causing the other to gurgle and choke. He leant into her ear and whispered harshly for her to quiet down, and she immediately did. He chuckled and took his hand out of her mouth and whipped the saliva on her uniform's sleeve.

"Open your mouth and stick your tongue out." He ordered, staring at her, waiting. When she didn't comply, he slid his fingers onto her neck and squeezed, hearing a gasp escape. She stuck her tongue out, and he raised his hand to pat her head. He pinched the tip of her tongue and raised the knife, chopping it into her tongue. With a sickening squelch, he ripped the knife out of the tongue and swung it again, the muscle tearing in half and flopping uselessly onto the group. His victim screamed and sobbed, twisting her body effortfully in an attempt to loosen the binds and escape. He sighed and bent down to pick up the tongue. He inspected it, and placed it on top of the other's head, grinning playfully.

She shook it off, snarling angrily at him. Blood pouring painfully out of her mouth.

"Tsk tsk." He shook a finger, placing the knife to her earlobes, and chopped through the flesh, earning more screams. He scowled. As much as he loved to hear people scream, just listening to her shrill voice made it seem like he was cutting his own ears off. He slapped the tape back on, muffling her wails and continued the job, chopping the left off. Of course, that won't disable her hearing, so he stuck the tip of the weapon into her ear canal, shoving it deeper until something slowed it down. It had pierced her eardrum. He grabbed her shoulder tightly to hold her still, he began twisting the knife in punishment for her loud and annoying howling. Working the blade deeper, he broke through the ear drum, blood pouring endlessly down her jawline and his arm.

Her shoulders rose and fall as she sobbed, her chest heaving as she hyperventilated.

He continued digging the blade deeper, forcing the opening and canal wider. He roughly pulled it out, blood splattering onto his uniform.

"Well, your taste and hearing are gone. Now what? How about... Sight." He decided, holding the knife up, aiming for her eye. She squirmed, whining quietly.

In a flash, he tore the cutter into her eye, tearing through the cornea, digging it past the lens and through the vitreous body. He wiggled the knife around and roughly pulled it out. Nerves ripped as he tore the eye out of the socket with the knife. The blade slipped out of the eye, causing the organ to dangle onto the hostage's cheek. He slammed the knife down on the nerves, breaking it from the only thing holding it up. It fell onto her lap, and she let out a choking sob before passing out, her body growing pale as more blood flowed out.

He did the same for the other eye.

"Next is smell." He hummed, wondering how he should remove it.

Gripping the handle tightly, he stabbed the cutter into her nostrils, causing her limp head to roll back. He curled his fingers around the back of her neck and held it up, digging the blade deeper until the tip touched flesh. He continued to dig it further. He stopped until he reached the roof of the nasal passage, shaking the blade until it dug into the flesh, reaching the chemoreceptors. He began shaking the blade wildly in an attempt to cut the neurones. With a final tug, he pulled it out and did the same to the other nostril. Blood was flowing endlessly out of her body, and he watched, satisfied.

But there's still one more thing to do. He thought darkly.

He grabbed some gasoline that was sitting on a table nearby, and a matchbox placed on the same table. He began pouring the fluid all over the other's body, making sure to shift her around to drench every inch. After making sure she was covered, he grabbed the matchbox, taking a match out and flicking it a couple times on the box. He dropped it on her head, diving for safety behind a wall. She burst into flames, the fire slowly spreading around her body, fuelled by the gasoline. She began burning, ash beginning to cover her body. He chuckled, which soon evolved into maniacal laughter. Raising his head to look up, he stopped laughing and whispered. "No one shall touch senpai..." He snarled.

"Don't worry, Jack~ Marki's coming!~" He purred, then began to clean up the body and blood.

xxxxx

 **(A/N: I've never written gore before, (Heh) I hope this is alright.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I don't know a thing about Japanese schools or American schools, so, instead of making a fool out of myself, I'll just pretend he's in a Canadian school.**

 **xxxxx**

His shoes clicked quietly against the smooth concrete as he headed past the front gates. Other students were starting to pour in. With careful steps, Mark crept closer to his senpai, who was standing idly beside a tree with a cellphone in hand. His fingers tapped and slid along the screen, the homepage of Twitter casting a white light over Jack's handsome face. Mark felt the urge to grab those cheeks and coddle the cutie.

 _No! I mustn't_. His mind spat at him. _I need to stay away from senpai_.

Gritting his teeth, Mark slipped into the school and opened his locker, taking all of the things he needed before heading to class.

With his eyes trained on the green-haired Irishman, Mark zoned out the teacher's boring lesson, taking in all of his senpai's features like he's done for the past years. The bell rung, telling him it was lunch. Sticking behind, Mark waited until senpai-Jack left the classroom, trailing after him while being careful to not get too close.

Jack seated himself on a wooden bench in the courtyard, a lunchbox on his lap.

Mark hung nearby, hiding behind a tree. Peering around the trunk, he beamed happily. His smile faded as a lithe brunette sat down beside Jack, smiling warmly at him. Her hand connected with his and their digits intertwined. A burning sensation flowed through him and he felt angry. Mark, seething, sent his fiercest glare at the back of the intruding woman's head.

"That... bitch..." He hissed through clenched teeth. His fingers curled into fists. Digging his nails into his skin, he forced himself to back away in case he hurt his dear senpai. Attacking someone in front of him would be bad. Mark turned and fled, his mind racing as he hurried out of the school. He needed a plan. A plan to get rid of that whore, Signe.

 **xxxxx**

School had ended and students were beginning to head home. Mark waited at the designated meeting spot he had told Signe to meet him. With a syringe hidden behind his back, he waited in the gym's storage room. With a quick glance at his watch, it read 3:39. A hand moved, signalling that it was now 3:40.

Footsteps sounded, tapping lightly against the ground. A head peered around the door of the room. "Ah, Mark!" Signe smiled. She slipped in front him, "what did you want to talk about?" Her eyelashes fluttered and the loose bun her hair was tied into bobbed slightly as she bounced on her heels.

Mark just grinned innocently at her. With a quick lunge, he stabbed the needle into the woman's neck, slapping a hand over her mouth to quiet any noises she made. He pressed his fingers against the plunger and watched as the liquid drained from the barrel into Signe's neck.

She raised her arms and clawed at his chest, gripping onto his uniform. Tears rolled down her cheeks as her body thrashed around. Mark grunted as her foot connected with his knee.

With a growl, Mark ripped the syringe away, dropping it on the ground. A small clang accompanied the object, but Mark ignored the sound, his darkened mind too focused on the person in front of him. Lashing out a hand, he gripped the flailing woman's throat, his nails digging into her flesh, creating angry red crescents.

Tightening his grip, he urged her airways to close, causing Signe's face to fade to a slight blueish colour. With weak movements, Signe clawed at his arm, her face twisting in pain. As her last breath escaped, her eyes rolled back and she fell limp, the anaesthesia running through her veins finally doing its job.

Huffing loudly, Mark brushed non-existent dust particles from his uniform and bent down to grab his new victim's arms, ushering her debilitated body into the music case he had prepared beforehand. After packing his "musical instrument" into the case, he picked up the syringe and threw it inside before grabbing the handle and wheeling it out of the storage room.

With a gleeful smile printed on his face, he waved to a few teachers lingering in the halls and made his way through the front gates, evil thoughts invading his mind as he planned on what he would do to this stupid whore.


	3. Chapter 3

"What do you think you're achieving by doing this?!" The shrill voice asked.

Mark turned, a grin splitting across his face. Tied up against a pole was a shirtless Signe, ropes digging painfully into her skin. She squirmed, tears creating pathways of mascara down her cheeks.

Laid in front of Mark sat a cart of torture instruments. "This is going to be fun!" He chirped gleefully, scanning his eyes across the assortment of tools and weapons. Plucking a scalpel from a tray, he walked over to his victim and grabbed a fistful of her hair.

Jerking her head upwards, he leant closer to her face, "what is your relationship with Seán McLoughlin?" He growled, causing the petite woman to flinch.

Tensing, Signe choked out an answer, "I-I'm his girlfriend," she mumbled, fear flashing in her eyes.

A low chuckle escaped Mark's mouth as he pulled away, his grip still on her hair. Pushing Signe's face into the ground, he flipped her thrashing body onto her back and plunged the scalpel into the left side of her chest. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you won't _ever_ love anyone again." Mark hissed, his teeth gritting.

Signe's mouth opened as a scream forced itself past her now gaping lips. With every second that passed, her screaming grew louder and more shrill, waves of pain swirling along with her voice.

Dragging the scalpel down, he created an incision, digging deeper as the blade lifted along her breasts. Fresh blood ran along her skin, but he just brushed it away with the back of his hand. Satisfied with the cut, he dove the scalpel into the layers of muscle and fat before placing the blade back onto the tray.

Flexing his fingers, he curled the digits around the edge of the incision, pulling the layers away to reveal the inside of her chest. With a low chuckle, he glanced up at her. Her shoulders were heaving as she sobbed quietly, her eyes rolled back as waves of pain tore through her. Her body bobbed as wove between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Mark turned his gaze back to the task at hand, reaching up and grabbing a handheld electric saw and plunging it into her ribs. Screams tore from her throat and her legs began to thrash. Howls of begs and pleads escaped Signe's mouth as she screamed louder, her eyes overflowing with tears.

The ravenette took one hand off the tool to grab her chin, his fingers splaying across her cheeks forcefully. "Shut the fuck up," he spat. "Senpai is mine and only mine. This mess is your fault only. If you hadn't fallen in love with Senpai Jack, you wouldn't be here."

Signe flinched, her breath catching as she hiccuped.

Mark squeezed her face one last time before looking back down and sawing through the rest of the visible ribs.

After plucking the protective bones from her chest, he stuck his hand into the heavily bleeding hole and poked the quickly beating heart, causing the owner to cry out in pain. Mark smirked and inched his arm deeper, curling his fingers around the organ, compressing it tightly. Signe coughed, leaning back against the pole. Her limbs shivered and she fell limp, finally passing out. With a disappointed sigh, Mark released the organ and picked up surgical scissors, plunging them into the wound and snaking the pair up to the arteries, closing the distance between the two blades. After quickly snipping the rest of the arteries and stepping away with his uniform splattered in blood, he moved the cart away and rested his gaze upon his work, Signe's heart clutched in his hand.

Signe was drooping feebly against the pole, the crimson pool beneath her growing bigger. her blanched skin was dyed a dark red, the fluid weaving between her erect pores. He rolled the heart onto the ground, the still organ bumping into her slightly twitching legs, creating a trail of blood in its wake.

Patting his victim's head, he grabbed all of the used tools and pulled off his uniform, changing into his lucky red flannel and wharfstache pajama pants. Grabbing a trash bag, he untied Signe and stuffed her head into it, forcing the rest of her body. He threw the used utensils in, too and his bloodied uniform, tying the bag. Hefting said bag into his arms, he carried it over to the furnace that had been built into the basement. Throwing the bagged body inside, he closed the doors and picked the heart off the floor, placing it into a glass jar, and shelving it with the other canopic jars.

Grabbing a bucket and a mop, he filled the bucket with tap water and began washing the blood away, scrubbing furiously at dried up spots. After cleaning the whole basement, he sprayed air fresheners around and hopped up the stairs, a grin splitting his face. Hopefully, people would get the message and stay away from Senpai Jack.


End file.
